


Forever, Now?

by Trishtan



Series: Face the Music [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, I was in my feelings when I wrote this, Musician Jon Snow, Tired!Sansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trishtan/pseuds/Trishtan
Summary: Maybe she was in a fool in love.It did not surprise her, she was always foolish for him.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Face the Music [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830559
Comments: 14
Kudos: 80





	Forever, Now?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Guys!!!
> 
> I am so excited to be posting my first Jonsa story!! I have a couple in works right now including a few multi-chapters. I hope you enjoy!!

[](https://ibb.co/KwzpVTy)

Maybe she was a fool in love.

It did not surprise her, she was always foolish for him. Ever since she laid her eyes on him (she fell heart first, head after in love with him). It was like a filter of colours and the world was bright again. He had stood on the porch of her childhood home with a cool arrogance that she loved to hate. He was new to town and Robb had befriended him. She was thirteen, he was sixteen. She had opened the door, blue met grey. He had her soul there and then.

(She wished she could take it back but then she didn’t).

He kissed her for the first time when she was eighteen. 

Toe-curling, _falling_ , _falling._

The slant of lips and deep breaths (sighs of pleasure, moans of ascending). The pining, the fantasies could not compare to the real thing. Callous hand gripping her hips, his hair brushing her arm as she curled it around his neck. She was out of breath and there was nothing but him.

Everything in the background lost focus, just him, just Jon. 

(she should have fixed her lens).

The apartment they lived in was white, a blank canvas waiting to be painted. It felt like purgatory the first time they moved in. Now it was a white hell. A white hell, she spent most of her time staring at the wall, waiting for him to walk through the door. 

She wants to scream in pain, she wants to scream in pleasure. She just wants him. 

The first time, she always remembered their first time.

Toe-curling, _falling, falling._

Fumbles and giggles, stuck zippers and cheap hotel candles.

_“You’re so beautiful,’’ he whispered huskily, “Beautiful and mine,’’_

She felt warm, red, blooming cheek, as he went lower and lower. Grey met Blue like the first time. She realised that then and there that she had his soul too.

Biting lips, sweaty palms and clenches were all she remembered from that night. The guttural _fucks_ that filled the room. His scent, just him, just Jon.

The aftermath of I loves yous and forevers traced on her hip. Hair sticking to foreheads and hooded eyes. She wanted it back but they were memories, gone as the fleeting summer.

It was winter now and she was praying that they made it to spring.

( A pray that fell on deaf ear)

She was sitting on the couch, knees under her chin, glass of wine staining the carpet, tears staining her eyes.

She was tired.

She only saw him on screen, cool arrogance in abundance. Beautiful voice filling the airwaves. The screaming fans and the crying girls. She enjoyed the perks of it at the beginning. Small town boy becomes an international superstar, hometown sweetheart at his side.

How long was she going to last?

She pulled her knees under her chin.

The red carpets, the parties, the award shows, the Instagram post.

**How long was she going to last?**

The fake smiles, the mean comments, the envious looks when he pulled her close.

_**How long was she going to last?** _

Bags were already packed, the ticket was already bought. She needed home. She needed fresh air. She needed a reminder of a time gone by. When she was Sansa. Not Sansa Stark, Jon Snow's girlfriend. 

(She had loved being Sansa, just Jon’s girlfriend.)

Sweaty palms and ice teas, soul songs and I love yous. It was just them.

She felt selfish, he deserved the world at his feet but the price was her soul.

She stared at the red stain on the carpet, angry like their fights.

Screaming, hot infernos that took over the room. Tears of sorrow and tightening hearts.

_“What do you expect me to do?’’ he had said hand gripping the counter, “Because that Chanel bag is not going to pay for itself,’’_

_“I just want you,’’ she screamed voice hoarse from crying, “Not some Chanel bag or fucking Balenciaga dress, I want you!”_

_“Well you can’t!” he screamed back, “This isn’t Winterfell, this isn’t Nebraska! I can’t drop everything on a whim for your needs!”_

_“I am not asking you too,” tears beginning to form, “just make time for me! We hardly ever talk, we just fuck and I attend events on your arm and you gave me gifts like some fucking prostitute,’’_

_“Well, I’m sorry that I am trying to give you a good life,’’_

_“I don’t want a good life, I want you!” she screamed, “How many times do I have to say that?, I just want you, Jon,’’_

_He stared at her wide, taking deep breaths. He looked like he was ready to embrace, her dream of him back in her arms. He took a step. The phone on the counter began ringing and just like that the world sucked him back in._

She untucked her legs, picking up the glass.

She placed it on the table. She looked around the apartment.

By the morning she was gone.

***

A dozen roses, sweet-scented, just how she liked it was scattered on the floor.

She was gone, _she was gone_.

The closet was clear and all that remained was a note, stuck in a pink envelope.

_Dear Jon,_ it read, _I have been lost and I need to find myself. I have been floating in an abyss, lost in a dream of not believing that we have fallen so far. I am not happy and it’s obvious you are not also. I am not ashamed to say I am a coward. I am because I should have told you face to face. Pride, however, is a dangerous thing but it is all I have. I love you and always will but we have grown apart. We promised forever but some forevers ends in the now. I am sorry._

_Love, Sansa._

He sat staring at the note, it could have been hours, days, years. Time slowed, so did the action of breathing.

_She’s gone, She’s gone._

Was he supposed to cry, scream, shout, throw that fucking ugly vase on the table outside the window? Should he call someone? Mel, Dany, Davos, Robb?

What was the fuck was he supposed to do?

_Sansa, what the fuck I am supposed to do?_ He thought.

The tears came like an avalanche, like words on a paper, like her song.

What was he supposed to do with Forever, Now?

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://joeyava.tumblr.com/). I accept ask and submissions!!


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